


In Your Wake

by violetlolitapop



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, i mean i'm working on it, i'll write something nice one day, this has a lot to do with my own personal recovery story ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:06:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetlolitapop/pseuds/violetlolitapop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates the days he has to wait it out. Hates that he just can’t snap himself out of it. Hates that he falls into these episodes so easily and it’s so much harder to get out. </p>
<p>Hates that he’s over thirty fucking years old and can’t let this one thing go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Wake

x.x

_I heard your name today._

x.x

For a single moment he goes rigid and still. He even forgets to breathe even though for that split second he can hear the picked up beating of his heart thrumming in his ears.

A large delivery truck passes by then. It barrels down the busy intersection, blares its horn just as it crosses the corner he stands on as someone cuts him off with their own car and brings him back to the present.

The sudden draft chills him and has him shove his hands into the pockets of his oversized jacket. His eyes are focused once again on the other side of the street, at the solid red hand signaling that it is not yet time to cross. He does know better; does know that sating his curiosity won't do anything other prolong the healing process.

Though all things considering, does that even matter?

Despite his better judgment he darts his eyes off to the side where he heard it. What he sees is a woman with a small child, most likely her son. She wipes at his mouth with a tissue while they wait on the curb and speaking in a low tone of voice he's not able to make out too well.

Figures, out of everything it's the boy's name he's able to hear over the sounds of the city. And even more fitting, that this boy out of hundreds and hundreds of others living here would be the one to carry the same name as _his_.

The light turns green. Everyone around him moves forward, and it's more instinct than consciousness that has him do the same. Eventually, he moves with purpose again, but even so... he can't shake it.

It's been eight years and some three months, and he can't shake the feeling off.

Eight years and some three months and Alfred can't forget.

He can't forget about the boy he loved and his own broken heart.

x.x

_His name is Ivan._

_Alfred hates him._

_"Look at him over there," he says to Arthur during lunch. "Big nose, strong-jawed, pretty-eyed motherfucker."_

_"You're too fucking stupid for your own good," Arthur tells him. "Y'know that, yeah?"_

_Alfred doesn't reply to him. Instead he stands up from his seat so fast that the metal scraping against the stained linoleum floor of the cafeteria called the attention of nearly everyone around them. Then, without any warning at all, Alfred grabs a fistful of the man-n-cheese from off of his tray and launches it straight across the room._

_There's no hiding his self-satisfied smirk when it lands with a sharp_ slap! _against the back of his target's head._

_The room is still. No one makes a sound or dares speak._

_Ivan - Alfred's very own bane of existence - raises a hand to the back of his head slowly, deliberately feeling the mash of noodles and cheese clinging to his hair. His own chair makes a scraping sound against the linoleum as he stands and as he moves aside to face Alfred's direction._

_Even if he hadn't seen it happen, even if Alfred had returned to his seat and acted as if he did no wrong... The look on Ivan's face clearly says he knows who is responsible and he is ready for revenge._

_In all of their history together the students know this can go one of two ways. The first being Ivan will grab food from his own tray and send it flying back, causing a school wide food fight they can all enjoy. The second being he will forget all about saving face and go straight up to Alfred and punch him. And though the whole student body watching roots for the first with Ivan leaving his seat and walking straight towards the other with sure even steps it looks like this will end as the second._

_Even with Ivan coming to a standstill in front of him Alfred doesn’t move. He doesn’t back down one bit. If anything the sheer fact that he has to look up to make up for that one inch of height difference makes him even more determined to take this confrontation head on._

_“You threw that at me,” says Ivan._

_It’s not a question and it’s said at a volume that should only be heard between them. If only, Alfred wishes. With the quiet of the room and the intent eyes of everyone watching he’s sure that everyone’s heard. Which pisses him off for a reason he doesn’t really want to analyze and that pisses him off more._

_“Yeah,” he replies. “I did.”_

_He raises an eyebrow in a silent dare to ask him why he would do that. He wants him to ask just so that they can go down the all too well-known familiar route. No matter what he says it won’t be a good enough reason and Ivan will take the first punch and he’ll let him._

_(He never wants to think about that either. Never, never, never.)_

_“Why?”_

_The impending question and Alfred feels it roll off his tongue without even realizing what he’s saying._

_“I was only trying to do the friendly thing and share my lunch. But your dumbass turned away from me today. Not my fault.”_

_Even with that being said. Ivan makes no move. Alfred even breaks their eye contact to glance down at Ivan’s fist.. or lack of one. His hand isn’t balled up and it confuses him. Isn’t he going to start the fight? Or at least this part of the fight as he always does? He glances back up just in time to see Ivan pull away, turn his back to him, and make for the exit._

_He leaves the cafeteria. Just leaves Alfred standing there._

_As for the crowd watching, they begin to return to their meals. Eventually everyone goes back to what they had been doing before. Alfred is left to stand there before he finally takes his own seat back with the same confused look plastered across his face._

_"What the hell just happened?" he asks._

_"I think you just got dumped," says Arthur and is met with a short-lived glare._

x.x

It’s been three days and it still feels like yesterday.

Alfred knows that the signs he’s showing are bad. It’s taken him a day and half to work up the strength to get out bed, and he knew that if he didn’t soon get up the energy to actually go into work instead of simply picking up the phone to call out sick it was only going to get worse. He has technically eaten; if only a few crackers that he broke apart and played with first before finally working up the nerve to choke them down and chase them with a gulp of gatorade. He knows what’ll happen if he fasts, he’s done it before and he’s not willing to go back down that road.

Sometimes though, it gets too hard when he has no appetite. And with food being his one indulgence, it aggravates him to the point where he’s unreasonably upset and only worsens the episodes.

He knows this.

He’s lived this.

Still….

It’s closer to evening than it is afternoon when he finally gets out of bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress and sits. And sits. And sits.

Time is irrelevant, and it’s uncertain how long it does pass before he finally lifts himself up. He forces himself to pick up the strewn clothes and put them in the hamper. He forces himself to tear off the sheets and toss them with the rest of the laundry.

He picks out new linen. He makes the bed. He shuffles out of his pajamas. He showers. He brushes his teeth. He puts on clean pajamas. He sits in the living room.

It’s a small accomplishment.

Still doesn’t make him feel better.

Not really.

He hates the days he has to wait it out. Hates that he just can’t snap himself out of it. Hates that he falls into these episodes so easily and it’s so much harder to get out.

Hates that he’s over thirty fucking years old and can’t let this one thing go.

x.x

_The infamous tale of ‘No-Fight Lunch Fight’ had broken out around the school, and there are some who are more than happy to guess as to what Ivan will do next for retaliation. These stories don’t bother Alfred so much as Ivan not reacting at all. He can throw whatever form of petty revenge he wants; Alfred just wants him to do something. Anything. He can’t figure that part out, Ivan always reacts, he always rises to the bait, what is happening?_

_“I’m telling you,” Arthur says to him. “You’re too fucking stupid for your own good.”_

_“You gonna help me figure this shit out or just keep on insulting me?” Alfred asks him._

_“I don’t really need to. If you would just admit to liking him, this would be so much easier.”_

_“You’re a real asshole, y’know that?”_

_“Fuck off, Alfred, some of us have actual problems.”_

_Alfred does stop his whining. He doesn’t exactly ask what Arthur means, but he’s willing to drop the subject anyway._

_From then on he mostly keeps his worries to himself._

_Not that he’s actually worried._

_If Ivan wants to go ahead and start ignoring him fine._

_He’s better off without the added drama of dealing without his annoying ass, that’s fine._

_Fine._

_Come Monday, when they pass each other in the hall and he shoots Alfred a small upturned barely there smile Alfred will never admit to that being the reason he ran into Kiku’s opened locker._

x.x

“Hey, Alfred, it’s me…  
Matthew. Listen, Arthur told me that you called out for a few days…   
and you were supposed to go in yesterday and didn’t show…   
and you didn’t show today.   
Call me back, please? I don’t know what set this off, but we can help again.   
You never have to go through this alone, okay? Please. Call me back.”

.

“Alfred? Arthur. I know it’s a hair trigger.   
I know it’s inexplicable.   
I know it’s difficult.   
You’re not alone.   
You’re never alone.   
Call me.”

.

“Alfred? Hi… It’s been a long time.   
Your brother called me and told me what was happening and…  
Please don’t let this fester inside of you again, Alfred.  
Please, let them help you.  
We may not have each other in our lives like we did once, but I still care for your well-being.  
You’re such a will full and independent person.  
Please, take care of yourself.”

x.x

_Alfred puts the Ivan bullshit aside. He has more important things to worry about._

_Well, not really, but the upcoming baseball season is something for him to focus on and he needs to get back in shape to make the cut. He hasn’t been a benchwarmer since he started high school, he’s not about to go back._

_“Think you can hit this one, Jones?”_

_“Think you can pitch over the plate, Godfrey?”_

_“Fuck you, my voice is not that bad!”_

_Alfred laughs and takes a practice swing. He always loves giving Gilbert a hard time before the pitch; it makes the other boy more inclined to strike him out and pitch harder._

_“Whatever gets you to sleep at night,” he says and stands at the plate._

_He keeps his eye on Gilbert reeling back, reads what kind of throw it’s going to be, and swings at just the right moment. The crack of the bat hitting the ball echoes through the field and the few of their teammates scattered out in the field run around trying to catch it. The ball goes straight over the scoreboard and out of sight, those that are watching the team practice let out their cheers and Alfred turns his head to catch a glimpse at the one that is whistling out loudly. It turns out to be Ivan, standing close to where the dugout is and once again wearing that small little smile that he’s been shooting at Alfred recently._

_Alfred ignores Gilbert’s questions of whether or not he’s ready for another ball and drops his bat off before stalking over to Ivan._

_“What are you doing here?” he asks him._

_He’s genuinely curious. The two of them haven’t had much interaction aside from the few seconds they see each other in passing now that they’ve all but stopped fighting. It’s a bit odd to see a former rival watch him play from the other side of the fence now_

_“Well, the football season has ended,” Ivan tells him. “Thought I would check up on other sports to fill my time.”_

_“You don’t think basketball would be more your speed? You always used to talk about how much taller you were.”_

_Ivan tilts his head as if he thinks his point over. “I did.. But, it looks like you did a good job at catching up.”_

_There’s no denying the dragged out look Ivan gives his legs. Alfred feels his face flare up the longer he stares, and when he flicks his eyes back up to his face, Alfred just goes even redder. Ivan steps away from the fence then. He heads up the stands where other students hang around and Alfred spins right around and calls out for Gilbert to ready another pitch._

_He almost misses it. He feels the gaze of Ivan’s eyes on him a little too much._

_For some reason it becomes a routine. Ivan will come by after school hours and watch the baseball team (read: Alfred) practice. Sometimes he leaves early, sometimes he stays behind and chats with Alfred. Sometimes he’ll leave for home after they talk for a few minutes… sometimes he waits for Alfred to come out of the locker room and they’ll walk home together._

_It takes a whole month before Alfred figures out that Ivan actually lives in the opposite direction._

_“Wait, what?!” he ends up crying out._

_Ivan doesn’t explain himself when the big revelation comes. He gives Alfred that same little personal smile and walks off back in the direction of his own house. Alfred ends up standing on his front porch in a slight daze before he runs into the house and slams the door behind him. The only one to witness his behavior is Matthew who stares at him from the couch._

_“What’s your problem?” he asks._

_Alfred quickly tells him everything that’s been happening without leaving anything out. He even goes back to the time where Ivan first checked out his legs during practice._

_“What the hell is he up to?!” he asks and Matthew just laughs._

_“Fucking hell,” his brother gasps out. “Dude, Arthur was right.”_

_“Right about what?!”_

_“You’re both into each other! The boy has a crush on you, Alfred! And so do you, so you better tap that already and quit freaking out already!”_

_“You all suck!” Alfred shouts at him and runs for his bedroom._

_He slams the door on Matthew’s new round of laughter._

x.x

Sometimes, he thinks, that if he would just visit him, it may help him snap out of it faster. He only thinks that sometimes, but he doesn’t really go through with it. He never does. Both Matthew and Arthur had suggested it years and years before when he was still learning to cope, but even then he never did. What help would that have been? Really?

No.

No, he won’t go see him.

What if he ends up seeing something that would only make him feel worse? He doesn’t want that; temptations of closure be damned.

Besides he’s shaken it off enough to go back to work. Sure, Arthur still looks at him from the side of his cubicle, and asks how he is doing more than necessary, but he’ll be fine. He’s been fine before, he’ll be fine again.

But then something like waking up late to bike it to work will happen, and he’ll work up the nerve to take the subway trains. But when he gets there and hesitates in front of the stairs leading down, he’ll feel his chest constrict and his heart run a mile a minute and his throat will close up and suddenly he can’t breathe until he’s run block away and is even more late because he ends up taking the bus, he wonders if he’ll ever really be fine.

It’s easy to blame Ivan for those days, but that’s just wrong.

It wasn’t even his fault.

And that makes him feel worse.

x.x

_The first time they kiss is after Alfred’s last game. It’s not a home game, so he hadn’t really expected much more than his family and maybe Arthur to show up, but Ivan showed up as well. Not just him either, he had brought his sisters and a friend of his own._

_He doesn’t really know why seeing him on the stands next to his brother makes his chest clench, but it does, and he’s determined to play the best he ever has. His own emotions run through the entire team and they all give it their all. They end up winning the last game of the season and while they all pile on one another out on the field, Alfred takes the moment to look out to the crowds._

_He can’t really describe the overwhelming feeling he feels constricting his chest, and it’s the only reason he can give for sprinting up to where Ivan and his small entourage are standing by his own family cheering. The second he reaches Ivan, he grabs at his shoulders and pulls him down by his jacket so that he’s eye level with Alfred, and plants a large smooch right on Ivan’s lips._

_The surrounding noise doesn’t really register on him, they could be cheering for them two for all Alfred knows, but someone does toss a can of soda at them and it wakes Alfred up to what he’s doing out in public. Matthew shouts so that he is able to heard, tells the two of them to take it out to the parking lot and deal with this privately. Ivan takes the advice and grabs Alfred’s hand. He leads them out of the fray quickly and without a confrontation._

_They end at the far end of the parking lot where it’s a little more isolated away from the people that are leaving the game. The night air is a little more biting away from the body heat of his teammates and the spectators. It definitely adds to the adrenaline rush he must have been feeling before._

_“So, that was interesting,” Ivan says and breaks them out of their silence._

_Alfred kind of keeps his eyes forward in disbelief. “Did I seriously just kiss you in front of everyone?”_

_“Yes. Yes, that is something that you did.”_

_“Oh my god! Why didn’t you stop me?!”_

_“Well I didn’t really mind, to be honest.”_

_Alfred lets out a small breathless laugh. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. He turns his head to look at Ivan and he instantly notices that he is staring at him with an extreme focus. He almost feels like he’s being studied as if under a microscope. He’d be lying if he didn’t feel a little uncomfortable… Especially with Ivan still holding his hand._

_“What is this?” he asks Ivan and tugs at their joined hands while watching as the other boy comes up with an answer._

_“Whatever you want it to be, I guess,” he answers._

_“What do you want it to be.”_

_Ivan lets out a long sigh and looks away then. Eventually, he says, “I like you, Alfred.”_

_Alfred feels his chest constrict again. “Since when?!”_

_“Since always.” Ivan shrugs. “It feels that way, anyway…”_

_“I just-,” Alfred laughs. “This is.. too weird. I never thought this would happen. Didn’t we hate each other?”_

_“I never really hated you. Don’t get me wrong, you can be annoying as fuck sometimes and there were times I really meant those punches I gave you, but I never really did hate you. To be honest, I liked you even then. I just always thought that would be the only way to interact with you, so I figured why not? Better something than nothing.”_

_That’s how he ends it, leaving Alfred with nothing but some confusion as to why Ivan would change his mind set at all after being so content with letting things keep on as they always were._

_“So, why stop fighting me?”_

_“Toris said that you only picked fights with me because you liked me, and that I should try a different approach.”_

_Alfred laughs at that. “Arthur said the same damn thing! Well, actually, he said you did like me and that I was too fucking stupid for my own good.”_

_“Well, he wasn’t wrong.”_

_“Fuck you!” Alfred cries out and punches Ivan’s arm. “I can’t believe I kissed you, what the hell was I even thinking?”_

_“Maybe something along the lines of: That good looking Russian boy is handsome, I should kiss him after all.”_

_He ends up laughing as Alfred rains down a series of small punches on him._

_“God, I hate you. This isn’t gonna work, like hell it will.”_

_“Are you saying you wanna try then?”_

_Alfred looks at him then, long and hard. There’s no real denying it, of course he does. He says as much, and Ivan pulls him in for a real kiss this time._

_In the end they make it through high school, they make it even past that. They’re still together when they first rent their low-income apartment and start their internships. They’re still going strong when they finally have real jobs and start hunting for a new place to live._

_They could’ve made it._

_Maybe._

x.x

A month later and he’s still in a rut. He hasn’t called his therapist and he’s barely spoken to Arthur or Matthew about the hurricane that are his emotions. They don’t need to be plagued with his own imbalanced emotions, they’ve done enough and he can figure this one out on his own.

At least that’s what he wants to believe.

It’s at one of the times he ends up taking his bike out for a mindless ride. He doesn’t have a destination in mind and ends up riding everywhere and anywhere his strength can take him. It’s a good distraction, and the exercise makes him feel more productive. He starts to feel more like himself… and then he finds himself in front of wrought iron gates.

He skids to a stop. He looks around.

This is not what he had in mind, this is not where he wanted to go at all. How did he even…?

Was it a subconscious decision? It had never happened to him before, he hasn’t been here since-

“Alfred?”

His heart stops.

Katerina is just as he has remembered her. Her hair is still cropped short and her style hasn’t changed much in the years it’s been since he’s seen her. With her is her sister, and frankly while she hasn’t changed at all as well and Alfred is more than anxious to see her.

They never did get along so well…

“It is you!” Katerina cries out and smiles at him.

She approaches him and sweeps him into a huge hug that he only gives back half-heartily. If she notices though, she doesn’t mention it.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” she goes on to say. “Did you get my message? It’s been awhile, I wasn’t actually sure if I had called the right number. I did have to ask Matthew when he called me for help- Not that it was an actual help, I only mean-”

“No,” Alfred cuts her off. “No, I got it. I heard it.. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.”

Her smile is a bit small and hesitant. “That doesn’t matter now, I’m just glad you’re doing okay… Are you doing okay?”

Her tone turns so serious in an instant that Alfred feels as if he’s 25 all over again and people are crowding around him to offer their sympathy. The fact that he’s here of all places…

“I’m.. okay,” he says.

It’s not technically a lie. He’s not completely recovered from this spell, but he is feeling better than he had weeks ago. In the end it doesn’t matter because for some reason Katerina totally buys it and smiles grandly at him again.

“Well,” she says. “We were just visiting too, I guess we should go ahead and let you go. Would you like us to come with you?”

“That’s okay,” he tells her. He’s not planning on actually going in. He just.. He just can’t. “You guys can go on, get on with your day… It was good to see you.”

“It was good to see you too.” Dear god, doesn’t she sound sincere when she says that, it makes Alfred kind of feel like shit. “I’ve missed you, we all have.”

Alfred takes a small second to glance at Natalya and her face clearly says that maybe not everyone has missed him. Still, that doesn’t mean that he actually has missed the eldest of the Braginsky clan. He had looked forward to her being a real part of his family.

“Yeah, I.. I’ve missed you too.”

Katerina reaches for him again and pulls him into a hug. She squeezes him hard and he returns the gesture. She reminds him again to keep in contact, tells him that she wants to see him around again, and he makes his promises with the uncertainty of keeping them. It’s not that he wouldn’t like to, it’s just he’s not sure he’s able to keep that word. After all he’s still such a mess…

Katerina begins to walk off and Natalya is quick to follow after her. She hangs back though, just a step behind and finally looks Alfred in the eye.

“It’s about time you came to visit him,” she says quietly and then leaves him behind to catch up with her sister.

Her words make Alfred’s stomach drop and whatever lifted mood he had been able to grant himself to vanish away with the sudden feeling of guilt. It keeps him standing in front of the gates in a slight haze before he finally moves and steps foot inside.

He hasn’t been here in years and it takes him awhile to remember where he is going. When he does recognize the plots though, he tosses his bike to the side and starts to run. He knows where he is now, he knows what he’ll find, he knows what he’ll see, and there it is right there…

Alfred falls down right next to the slab of stone that carries Ivan’s name. The time passes with him biting at his bottom lip and ripping up the grass that grows over his grave. When he finally does make a noise he means to choke out a laugh over how ridiculous he’s being and it ends up coming out as a strangled sob. Alfred immediately brings his hand to his mouth and forces back any sound he may have made. He keeps everything down still; he doesn’t want to make a scene, and it takes him awhile longer to calm himself and then wipe at the tears that have started to stream down his cheeks.

He takes a deep breath and blinks away the remaining wetness around his eyes.

It’s quiet now. He can do this.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” he mutters out. “But lemme tell ya… it’s been some long couple of years.”

x.x

_They’re going in separate directions, but it doesn’t matter because their platforms are right across from each other. They sit together with their thighs pressing into each other and watch pre-loaded videos on Ivan’s phone until the announcement for his train arrives._

_“This is almost like the one I was talking about earlier,” he says and pockets his phone. “I’ll show you when I get home.”_

_“You better,” Alfred laughs. “Because I still have no idea what you’re talking about. Because seriously, ‘Spy Rock’? What does that even mean?”_

_“Like I said, I’ll show you when I get home.”_

_They don’t hug goodbye, they don’t kiss goodbye. They settle for a hand squeeze because it’s safer in public and sometimes they’re not afraid to show it, and other times they just want to get through the day without starting something._

_The problem with taking the subway though, is that something is always being started by someone, especially when the platforms are overcrowded as they are now. Usually it’s nothing, and this time is no exception. They don’t know what started the fight, and they don’t care to find out. Because Ivan’s train is approaching and Alfred is too busy watching him walk away towards the edge of the platform just ahead of the yellow line._

_They don’t think whatever is happening on the other side of the crowd will escalate as quick as it does, but a single gunshot rings out and panic breaks out. Alfred stands up in an instant, his eyes still fixed on Ivan as Ivan spins right around to catch his eye, just as the mob crashes into the two of them._

_Just as random people push into Ivan._

_Just as he falls over the edge._

_Just as his train arrives._

_No one pays real attention to Alfred’s screams._

x.x

Alfred doesn’t ride his bike back home.

He ends up taking the bus the majority of the way back, and walks alongside it up the block until he reaches his apartment building. He had sat for a few good hours next to the cold granite and talked some, but mostly stayed quiet.

It’s been eight years and he knows Ivan’s not there anymore. He knows he wasn’t really there to begin with. For as positive as a person Alfred once was, he never bought into that _soul_ business, and never really thought he was to begin with, but… it actually helped.

Somewhat.

He still feels down, and still feels a bit listless, but he also feels… lighter isn’t the right word for it, but he can’t really explain it.

He cried, he vented, and now he keeps on mourning and he keeps on living just as he’s learned to do.

He goes into the kitchen and puts a sandwich together. He eats. He goes to bed at a decent enough hour. He’ll wake up at around 5am, shower, brush his teeth, make the bed, grab a granola bar, and bike to work. He’ll clock in, start an article with a backed up deadline, finish it, and clock out. He’ll call up Matthew and ask if he wants to catch a movie with him.

He picks up the pieces just like after every other episode he’s gone through. Not just because that’s _what Ivan would have wanted_ , but just because that’s what he wants too.

**Author's Note:**

> -i am actually working on nice things for this fandom
> 
> (sort of.)


End file.
